Love is Pain
by Marissalyn
Summary: You didn't blame her. Laura fell in love while falling for you, and you guessed that that was probably the most human thing to have happened before your own eyes in your entire life. Or Danny's inner monologue about getting over Laura.


You knew it was completely foolish of you to feel something for her, a student, _your_ student. You knew you were fucked the moment you stepped foot into her dorm room to rid your hair of fish. It was completely harmless, your interest in her…in the beginning at least.

You had only been in love once before, with a boy named Peter. Freshman year of college he was all that you saw. You couldn't imagine being in love ever again after the pain of putting yourself back together felt like your insides were boiling hot lava, and your skin and bones weren't melting quick enough to relieve you of the scorching heartache.

Laura had been different. She liked you first. She was a small freshman in your Lit 101 class, and you thought you could keep it strictly educational. You thought you could give her enough to keep her at arm's reach. You thought a lot of things. None of them being that you would fall for her.

Laura was to you, what most stars are to the night sky. They paint a brighter, and even more beautiful picture than if it were only the moon hanging lonely in its own glow. She made you stronger; she made you have purpose outside of the society house, outside of the classroom, and off the track. She gave you a reason to be excited for mysteries, and she was the entire reason behind you binge watching all of Doctor Who, just so you could understand her when she talked about a big blue police box.

You didn't expect for her interest in you to be easily swayed by a new and shinier model, that turned out to be strong and beautiful, everything that you weren't. You didn't expect to feel jealous and scared for Laura, and more importantly yourself. You were afraid that you were already too deep, and you grew terrified when you realized that you were.

You knew love was weird and tough, and you have to let yourself get hurt and let your heart get broken, but the amount of trust it takes to build up and give someone else your heart, to have an empty hole in your chest where theirs should be. You knew that there was a chance that Laura didn't care enough to place her heart in your heart's place, but you didn't think that it was likely that she would stomp on your heart before returning it.

She practically handed you back your heart in a complete wreck where she tried to repair the rips with duct tape.

You didn't blame her. Laura fell in love while falling for you, and you guessed that that was probably the most human thing to have happened before your own eyes in your entire life. She didn't mean to hurt you. She didn't mean to push you away.

You didn't mean to do the things you did, say the things you said. You didn't mean to care so much, and you guessed that was your downfall.

You knew that love was tough, and the feelings were even worse. The butterflies were unnecessary, but felt amazing. They were like a sick joke, reminding you of what you couldn't have.

You just wished that the butterflies would go away, that every time you saw Laura they wouldn't puncture your heart more than the pain already had.

Laura had been gone while you fought nail and tooth to keep the campus from sinking into the pits of what you assumed to be some underwater hell where anglerfish were an acceptable species to consider gods.

It was ridiculous for you to still feel the pests' beating around inside of your stomach after all that has happened. She was with _her_ now, and she was happy.

You just wished that you were able to make her happy for a little bit longer, but instead you are left to try and figure out how you could rip the butterflies out from inside you, bloody or not, you refused to let Laura be just another name, even if that was all that you were to her.

It was over; you just needed to get the message lodged far enough into your brain so that you could begin the process of forgetting what it felt like to sit beside her, and be the center of her world. It'd be easier if you didn't remember


End file.
